Gemotions

“Dad, do you remember playing pirates with me?” The words tumbled out of the boy's mouth, a hopeful question that hung in the air. The man, his father, tilted his head, a confused frown creasing his brow. "Son, I'm sorry, no." The boy’s face fell. He blinked rapidly, fighting back tears.

He dropped his toy sword, letting it clatter to the ground. The room, usually filled with the sounds of their games, now echoed with a silence that seemed to vibrate in his bones. His bottom lip trembled, and he bit down hard to stop the sound from escaping. His hands began to clench, his fingernails digging into his palms.

He turned away from his father, his shoulders slumping. He felt a deep ache in his chest, a feeling he couldn’t name. He wanted to crawl under the covers, into the safety of his bed. His voice, small and fragile, whispered, “It’s okay,” even though it wasn't.